Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time: Job 7:1-4,6-7; Mark 1:28-39

I understand Job. I understand his question: “Is not man’s life nothing more than pressed service, his time no better than hired drudgery?”. And I understand when he confesses: “Swifter than a weaver’s shuttle my days have passed, and vanished, leaving no hope behind”. I understand because I have myself sometimes asked similar questions. Life and all the troubles and tragedies connected with it can overwhelm a person. No call to arms can help. Especially someone else’s advice. And yet . . . . there must be a remedy.

I read about Him in today’s Gospel: “That evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were sick and those who possessed by devils. The whole town came crowding round the door, and he cured many who were suffering from diseases of one kind or another; he also cast out many devils (…)”. The atmosphere there must have been incredible. In this commotion there appeared the opportunity for a better future, that the monotonous helplessness is intercepted by real hope.

No, I don’t want to say that: so as to be cured of the crushing weight of life you have to go to Jesus, to be healed. This is a bit to shallow. It is Jesus himself who must be the host. So that you can stand at His door. So that hope may appear as completely new and interesting possibilities igniting a new flame in the heart.

I guess His need to reach the aching heart means He is always close. And that even if hidden somewhere behind the door, He is not I not indifferent to it. Then, though I have my years behind me, I can look at the world with the joy of young people . . .

I don’t know, Jesus, to where my life leads. But thank You for the discovery that it doesn’t have to be increasingly worse until the liberation of death. For You are not uncaring about my fate. Even if it be difficult, You cover my back . . .